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A SERMON, 



PREACHED ON THE 



NATIONAL FAST DAY, 



AT CHURCH GREEN, BOSTON. 



BY REV. ORVILLE DEWEY 



PASTOIi OF THE CHUKCH. 



BOSTON: 
TICK NOR A FIELDS 

1 8 G 1 . 



• ST 4-4-0 



Printed by Geo. C. Rand & Avery, 3 Corubill. 



SERMON. 



TEXT — THE 80TII PSALM. 



I SHALL take for my text this morning, tlie Psalm 
which I have just read to you. It is applicable to the 
occasion on which we are met together. Its application 
here, to-day, is even more striking than it was originally. 
In this way it was that many a text of the old time was 
"fulfilled,"— filled fuller of meaning, when applied to 
the events of a later day. And so it is now. 

For here God hath planted a nation, far greater and 
more prosperous than that of the Hebrews. He has " cast 
out the heathen, and planted it." It is by ordinance 
divine, we believe, — though we do not defend every 
human action connected with it, — that poor, ignorant, 
wandering tribes were to give place to a great and civil- 
ized people. This Xorth American continent was not 
meant to be a mere hunting-ground. Not wild native 
growths were to overrun- and occupy it ; but the seeds of 
civilized empire were to be planted here. They loere 



planted ; tliey grew, — let the toil and pains and suffer- 
ings of the early time, let its nurturing blood, tell how 
they grew, — till they took "deep root and filled the 
land ; till the hills were covered with their shadow, and 
the boughs thereof were like the goodly cedars ; till they 
sent out their boughs to the sea, and their branches vmto 
%e river ; " till, in short,- a land a hundred times larger 
than Palestine, was filled with more than thirty millions 
of people, all abiding under one grand sovereignty, in 
such peace, and freedom, and prosperity, and abundance, 
and rapid progress, as were never seen in the world 
before. 

This planting of a nation, but especially of such a 
nation, is something sublime and solemn to contemplate. 
Grovernment of some kind, — without which social order 
and private security cannot exist, — is certainly the ordi- 
nance of Grod. And, therefore, all mankind have agreed 
to brand treason as a crime against heaven and earth, and 
they have stricken it with pains and penalties, with 
attainders and forfeitures, beyond any other crime against 
society. But if ever the footsteps of a divine providence 
have been seen in the growth of any nation, it appears to 
me that it is in this, our American nationality. If any 
government ever were, I believe that this is an ordinance 
of God. And if any treason were ever more inexcusable 
and monstrous than any other yet seen on earth, I believe 
it is this which we witness to-day. 



And, therefore, without wisliing to use opprobrious 
terms, I cannot but regard the language of the text as 
applicable to the present painful crisis of our national 
affairs. " Why hast thou broken down her hedges, so 
that all they which pass by the way do pluck her ? The 
boar of the wood doth waste it, and the wild beast of the 
field doth devour it." It is a wild, self-willed, passion- 
ate, mad, and reckless invasion of the public order, — 
this Southern revolt; and if we have any self-respect, 
any loyalty, any regard for law and lawful rule, we must 
treat it accordingly. And well may we add the prayer, 
• Return, we beseech thee, God of Hosts! look down 
from heaven, and behold and visit this vine, and the 
vineyard which thy right hand hath planted, and the 
branch which thou madest strong for thyself." 

The President of the United States has invited us to 
assemble ourselves together, to offer such a prayer ; and 
this, not merely as we do every Sunday, but with some 
special though tfulness, humiliation, and sorrow. 

On one account, I am well disposed to do so. I do 
most heartily mourn over this dreadful conflict in which 
we are engaged with the revolted Departments of the 
South. I mourn over this awful spectacle of Christian 
men, who were lately fellow-citizens, emb ruing their 
hands in each other's blood. I mourn with those who 
mourn for the absent, the wounded, and the dead. All 



war is horrible, but this to me is the most horrible of all 
wars. 

But, at the same time, I do most heartily respect, ap- 
prove, and enter into, the feelings of those who have 
sprung to the support of the government in this great 
emergency. It is loyalty to law and lawful sovereignty. 
It is to defend the national integrity and stability and 
honor, that our people have taken up arms. And yet, I 
cannot but wonder at the buoyancy and eagerness with 
which our soldiers go into the fight, — demanding it, and 
singing, shouting, as they march to the battle-field. I 
would rather see them on their knees, in prayer, and 
solemn self-consecration to that awful work. That awful 
work, I say; and I cannot Ic^ok upon it in any other light. 
It is to me the most tragic spectacle under the sun. If 
our people must strike this blow, as I believe they must, 
yet they should strike with reluctance and sorrow. It is 
the act of Brutus, slaying his own sons for treason and 
conspiracy against the state. 

It is, perhaps, too much to expect of a peoj^Ie^ — a 
whole people, — that it will take up arms altogether in 
this spirit. We must take men as they are ; and few 
are the men that can fight in pure sorrow for those whom 
they assail. But so, if possible, should men strike for 
the right. So should they wound and kill their fellows, 
— in sorrow, though indignation be mingled with their 
sorrow. So especially should a rebellion be put down, 



where the antagonists were lately our fellow-citizens, and 
may have been our friends. This is a contest, which, what- 
ever passion or frenzy there be on the other side, requires 
on ours much reflection and cool determination. 

If we were resisting foreign invasion, — if we were 
fighting people of another nation and name than our 
own, it would be a different thing. But we are fighting 
our own people. We wound those whom we would fain 
comfort and heal. We slay those whom we love. I say 
it, and maintain it. I will not be swept away from this 
ground by the passions of the hour. I have known many 
of the Southern people. I have seen them in their 
homes. I have seen the system of domestic service, by 
which their homes are supported. But, although I dis- 
like their system, and think it in principle utterly wrong, 
I do not hate them ; though I have brought upon myself 
their displeasure by my plain speaking of slavery, yet I 
held, and still hold them, in dear esteem for their many 
virtues. Still, and nevertheless, I oppose them; and I 
would do so, though they were the dearest friends on 
earth. Though they were Christians, as holy as the 
apostles, I would do so; as Paul "withstood Peter to 
the face;" and for the same reason, — "because they 
are to be blamed." 

But, though I think them wrong, and to be blamed, 
and to be resisted, yet is it right, one may say, to resist 
them in this manner ? Since they desired to separate 



from us, why should we not have yielded to them, and 
have said, " Go in peace ? " I answer, that to have done 
so would have been to strike at the roots of all civil gov- 
ernment. All lawful sovereignty, all political order, any 
such thing as nationality, would be impossible upon this 
principle. 

But let us consider first, the question of war in gen- 
eral, and then, the question of this particular war. The 
sadness and horror I feel at this war, drive me upon con- 
sidering what place war has in the world, — what place 
in the providence of God, — what place in the duties of 
men. 

With regard to war in general then, in the first place, 
or with regard to war abstractly considered, I have been 
led of late, to ask whether we have not to revise our 
theories. I never went to the length of some of our 
Peace Societies ; but thus far I went, -:— I was inclined 
to admit that war is never justifiable except for self- 
defence. When invaded, we might fight ; but in no 
other case. Now, however, I doubt whether this limita- 
tion can be defended. 

In reconsidering the subject I am struck at the outset 
with this potent fact, — that war seems to have been a part 
of the normal condition of nations, ever since the begin- 
ning of the world ; in fact, just as defect, ignorance, 
mistake, conflict of opinion, is a part of its normal con- 
dition. It has been said in one of the discourses called 



out by the present crisis,* that probably no man has ever 
lived to the period of seventy years without encountering 
this fact of war ; and I am inclined to think that the 
statement might be made still stronger ; namely : that no 
nation has existed forty years without being engaged in 
some war, external or internal. And there has hardly 
been a year, or perhaps a moment of time, since the 
world began, when war has not been going on somewhere. 
It is computed that more than six thousand millions of 
the human race have perished in battle, — about seven 
times the present population of the earth. Now such a 
fact must be resolved into some kind of consistency with 
a providential order. The fact stands ; it stares us in 
the face ; and it seems to be inevitable. How could it 
be so, if all war, or all but defensive war, is contrary to 
the will of God ? 

Mr. Prudhon, the French writer, in a work lately pub- 
lished, "on War and Peace," has attempted to legitimate 
this fact ; to show it as incorporated into the very consti- 
tution of the world, and as a part of the lawful and 
ordained condition of men and nations. He maintains 
that there is " a right of war," founded on " the right of 
force ; " that is to say, that any nation, deprived by 
another, or conceiving itself to be deprived, of what is 
lawfully its own, — a fishery or territory, a fort or arse- 
nal, — has a perfect right to reclaim it by force, and, if 

* That of Dr. Ellis, of Charlestown. 



10 



necessary, by military force. He maintains that war is a 
divine tiling ; an ordinance of heaven, for the adjustment 
of national claims, not otherwise possible ; that the right 
to use such force lies at the bottom of all nationality, of 
every political constitution ; that the noblest nations are 
the surest to fight for their rights, and the meanest 
people to surrender them. And then he goes on to glo- 
rify war, as the tribunal of justice, the fountain of honor, 
the source of progress and improvement among nations, 
in a strain in which I confess, eloquent as ho is, that he 
is too hard for me. 

For I believe that peace is a diviner thing, — which he 
also seems to admit ; I believe that patience and forgive- 
ness are more divine than exaction and force; and that, 
as the world improves, there will be less war, and, ulti- 
mately, none at all ; and that nations will yet find a way, 
by conventions and arbitrations, to settle their disputes 
without bloodshed, as citizens of the same State now do. 

Still, I cannot refuse to see that something of what Mr. 
Prudhon says, is true. Force does lie at the bottom of 
all political order; and there are occasions when it must 
be used, and, in the imperfectness of our present civiliza- 
tion, must be used in war. 

And if I go back to the natural and essential con- 
dition of humanity, I can come to no other conclusion. 
Suppose, — I hope you will pardon the homeliness of my 
illustration for its appositeness, — suppose, I say, that I 



11 



and my neighbor are living side by side, in a state of 
nature, with no common government-to appeal to; and he 
says to me, " This piece of land, this farm on which you 
live, is mine ; " and I reply, " No, it is mine ; it was my 
father's before mej he gave it to me, and it is mine." 
"Nay," he says, " It is mine;" and he comes on 
with the strong hand to take possession. What am 
I to do ? Am I to acquiesce ? May I not resist 
him ? And if, when I do so, he pulls a stake from 
the fence, and I another, and they become as spears in 
our hands, — nay, and if lam beaten down by him, 
better that I should fall asserting my right, than tamely 
to yield it to wrong. I should at least have bravely set 
forth my sense of justice ; and I should help, though 
falling, to spread the sense of justice among my neigh- 
bors. But if I did nothing, and all men around me did 
nothing, in such a case, to vindicate the right, all justice 
would fall to the ground. And I myself should be de- 
spoiled on every hand. One man has taken my land, 
another would take my house, saying, " he will not re- 
sist ; " another would snatch my purse ; and I should be 
turned out, shelterless, to perish. No, that must not be; 
that was not meant to be. On the contrary, I believe 
that God has given me the right to protect my life, my 
person, and my property, in giving me the power and the 
instinctive will to do so. 

So it is with nations. AVhat sort of a nation would 



12 



that be which should form its constitution in this wise ? 
" We think it advisable that we should be one people, 
and should have a form of government ; we hope that all 
the citizens will respect and obey it ; — we wish that no 
one would steal or rob on the highway, or murder any- 
body, for we think it is very wrong ; — and we desire 
that other nations will let us alone ; that they will never 
attack our ships or our cities ; that nobody will take 
our forts or arsenals, for we should be very much dis- 
pleased at it." No ; that might be a constitution for a 
flock of , sheep, but not for a nation of men. No, a 
mighty n-ill lies at the bottom of every nationality ; a will 
to use force to preserve its integrity and to execute its 
laws ; and its language is : We, the king ) or, we, the 
nobles; or, we, the people ordain the constitution and 
the laws ; and we will use all necessary force to restrain 
and punish all crime, and, above all, the crime of treason, 
within ; and to resist and overwhelm all invaders of our 
rights without. This latter is war. 

And now let it be considered, that justice is not always 
palpably on one side. Nay, I believe that there is a con- 
science on both sides, always, at the bottom of every war ; 
for war is not robbery nor piracy, where the marauder 
knows that he has no right, but a solemn levying of the 
national force. I do not believe that nations fight but 
upon the ground that they have the right upon their side. 
The greatest mystery, — if I sought to find one, — in the 



13 



system of Providence, is this difference of opinion, with 
all its consequences ; and yet I see, that among imperfect 
beings, it is inevitable ; that it was, in the nature of things, 
impossible to constitute a race of moral and imperfect be- 
ings, without this element of trouble. And the standards 
of war are the bloody signals lifted up to proclaim and 
defend opinions. Cousin has somewhere said that every 
battle is the conflict of ideas ; nay, more, and that the 
right always gains the victory. This can be true only in 
one sense, viz : that the moral verdict of the world is 
always, ultimately, given in favor of the right, even 
though it sinks in the visible contest. Thus the Three 
Hundred at Thermopylae fellj but the ages have rung 
with celebration and triumph over that mighty deed. 
Fallen, sunk in death, they are crowned with immortal 
victory. 

I have said these things upon war in general ; giving 
only hints instead of descriptions, for which I have no 
space at present ; and I have said them to show you that 
war is not always unnecessary ; that all war is not unholy 
and profane ; that there may be such a thing as a right- 
eous war, — and in such a war I believe we are now en- 
gaged. Let us consider it. 

Let me speak of this matter in the first place, as be- 
tween us and the southern people, though I may have 
nothing in particular to say that is new upon it. But I 
have often imagined myself, knowing many of them as I 



14 



do, to debate this question with them in j^erson, in con- 
versation. I have thought of what they would say, and 
what I should reply to them. 

" You put the blame of this war upon us," they would 
say; " but it is woi upon us. We are wronged; we are 
oppressed; we are fighing for our liberties. We have a 
right to separate from you. You have made us desire to 
do so. You have contemned our social system. You 
have made the relation of fellow-citizens utterly disa- 
greeable to us. Why do you attempt to hold us ? Why 
will you not let us alone ? Why will you not let us de- 
part in peace ? " 

" In peace ? " I answer, " in peace ! do you say ? 
Was not your very first step to arm yourselves, and to 
take your stand in armed defiance to the common Govern- 
ment over us all, to which we had all alike sworn fealty ? 
Your leaders took that fatal initiative, and you followed. 
It was not we who began the fight, but you. You were 
long arming yourselves before we ever moved, — as we 
have found to our cost. 

" But wherein were you wronged ? What right was 
denied you ? You held your slaves, and had power over 
them, untouched. Slaveiy was a municipal institution, 
with which the General Government did not jjropose to 
interfere, and does not now. Is some Northern criticism, 
grant it were severe at times, a sufficient reason for break- 
ing the national bond ? And do you really demand, as the 



15 



price of a mere political union with you, that our mouths 
and minds shall be shut in silence on this subject ? It 
would be greater bondage than any you complain of. 
We must speak ; all the world must speak of it. The 
fires of criticism are burning all around you; and the 
South, instead of reasoning or letting others reason, 
seems ' like scorpion girt with fire,' more likely to destroy 
itself and 'its favorite instisution together. Yes, ' the in- 
stitution ! ' — this, disguise it who may, is the cause, at 
bottom, of the whole difiiculty. You are indignant with 
our opinions about slavery. Only let us of the North say, 
' We have changed our mind ; you have convinced us 
that we were wrong ; we have come to see that slavery is 
a just and admirable thing, and are sorry that we opposed 
it,' and you would be good friends and good fellow- 
citizens with us to-morrow. 

" But, at any rate," they say, " we have a constitutional 
right to separate." That is the fatal theory, — the other 
feeling is the impulse, — but that is the fatal theory which 
supports this whole Southern movement. Not treason, 
revolt, rebellion, is it, — but secession is the word that 
covers up all the mischief. John Bell, of Tennessee, is 
the only man that I have heard of, connected with this 
movement, that plainly said, " I am going to be a rebel." 
But he said what is true. For it is rebellion. It is just 
as much rebellion as it would be for Normandy or Bur- 
gundy, provinces of France, or for Scotland or Ireland, 



16 



parts of Britain, to break off, arm themselves, and bid de- 
fiance to tbeir respective governments. 

Thus should I argue with the Southern people, or any 
company of them, if I could meet them face to face. But 
sorrowful is the arguing which, carried into action, must 
cost thousands, and perhaps ten thousands, of human lives. 
I mourn over the necessity by which it is urged. A day 
of thoughtfulness, humiliatiou, and grief, is a fit season 
for it. It is fit that a great people, engaging in such a 
contest, should bow down before Grod in prayer and sorrow. 

And I do not wonder that the heart of a humane man 
should sink within him at the prospect of this bloody en- 
counter between the loyal people of America and the re- 
volted States. Nor am I surprised that there are some 
among ourselves who say, " Let us have peace rather than 
all this sacrifice of blood and treasure ; " who say. '■ Al- 
though the Southern people are in the wrong, yet they 
think themselves in the right, and it is hard to crush them 
down, even if we can do so; let us go on with a North- 
ern and Southern republic ; there are evils and perils in 
the plan, but it is better than this fratricidal war." And 
again, I am not surprised that people abroad, looking as 
idle spectators upon what is passing in a far-distant coun- 
try, regard this war as a contest between rival States, — 
Mexican or South American States; or, at any rate, have 
come to the conclusion that a revolt which has assumed 
such immense proportions, should be considered as a sue- 



17 



cessful revolution, or as warranting a permanent political 
division. 

Yet I firmly maintain that all these ways of thinking 
are wronsr ; here in the house of God, and amidst the so- 
lemnities of prayer and humiliation, I firmly maintain that 
neither the horror of bloodshed, nor brotherly sympathy, 
nor cold, unsympathizing foreign criticism, aro entitled to 
be our guidance in the awful circumstances in which we 
are placed. 

There is a higher plane of thought, I conceive, than 
that on which these considerations are placed. Above 
the mere impulses of humanity and sympathy, I believe, 
we must rise, if we would rise to the height of this 
great argument. And we must look farther than our 
foreign critics do, if we would understand the duty of 
the hour. 

I see, first, a grand question of right, of lawful sove- 
reignty, as between ourselves and the Southern people. 
There is a right, there is a lawful sovereignty, some- 
where in this controversy ? Whose is it ? Somebody 
must yield here. Who ? Some principles must give way. 
Which ? Loyalty or rebellion ? The freedom interest or 
the slave interest? The right of a majority, or the right 
of a minority ? The conscience of a nation, or of a broken 
fragment of a nation ? The claim, our lawful claim to the 
national property and domain, — our claim to the national 
fortresses, arsenals, munitions, and mints; or the claim to 



seize and despoil them ? Which, I say, shall be surren- 
dered, — supposing that there were an equally strong con- 
viction on both sides? When it is demanded of us that 
we shall give up what we believe to be the national law 
and sovereignty, or that we shall suffer the grand fabric 
of the government to be broken down with impunity, can 
it in justice be expected of us that we should consent to 
it ? In honor, can we do it, — in conscience, in loyalty, 
in obedience to any principle of virtue or religion ? 

Even in a private relation, where I might have a per- 
sonal right to make any sacrifice I pleased, — yet even 
then, if a man were to assail me who was only half as 
strong as I am, — if he were to snatch my purse, and 
should lift his hand to strike me, could it be expected 
that I should let him go on and work his will upon me ? 
Would it be thought strange if I should lay my hand upon 
him, and, using only so much force as was necessary 
to restrain him, should consign him to the police or to 
prison ? And certainly the plea for forbearance and hu- 
manity, — the claim to be "let alone," — the exclamation 
that he was very hardly and cruelly dealt with, Would be 
thought, by every bystander, to be a very strange one in 
his mouth. 

And this plea for humanity, it must be remembered, has 
two sides to it. There are other human beings to be con- 
sidered, besides those who are engaged in this revolt. If 
the Southern rebellion could succeed, the slave-trade would 



19 



be reopened; a great slave empire would be built up upon 
our borders; it would extend itself over new regions; and 
all the misery and injustice of African bondage would be 
perpetuated, through what period none can tell. In the 
interest of humanity and of the human race, in a just 
participation in the recognised duty of all civilized na- 
tions, I think we are bound to prevent that, if we can. 
Not to say that if this slave government could establish 
itself, and stand side by side with ours, instead of a war 
of a year or two, we should open the bloody histoi*y of 
endless wars. 

To any man among ourselves who dissents from a whole 
loyal people in this matter, I would say, — what ground 
do you take ? Do you say that secession is right ? Then, 
doubtless, we are all wrong. Do you admit that it is 
wrong, — politically, morally wrong, — a false and fatal 
principle in all government, and without all just cause as 
against ours ; and then do you say that we are to yield 
everything that this false and ruinous principle demands 
of us? Where is our manhood, if we can do so ? I have 
heard this called a politician's war. It is utterly false to 
say so. Opposition to it, rather, is a politician's oppo- 
sition. It is a nation's war. And we should stand with 
bent head, — cowed and ashamed before all nations, if we 
could thus tamely submit to national dismemberment and 
ruin. "We should incur the scorn of the Southern people 
themselves, and should deserve the tauntg which they cast 
upon our courage and manhood. 



20 



Yet, not before our own people alone, but before all 
nations and all ages, we stand in tliis dread controversy. 
I say again tbat there is a higher plane of thought from 
which this contest is to be surveyed, than that on which we 
place an ordinary civil war. The world has far more at 
stake here than it had in the struggle between the houses 
of York and Lancaster. That was a war of family 
interests; this is a war of principles — principles of universal 
concern. In the breadth and permanence of the interests 
involved, it is more like the Thirty Years' "War in Ger- 
many, or that of Holland and the Netherlands with 
Spain, or that of the French Revolution. 

I see here a great government, with a peculiar, a 
popular, and what is to us a precious title to sove- 
reignty, which the rude hand of rebellion would pluck 
down, and cover with opprobrium, and blight with 
failure, before the eyes of all the world. I see a great 
Republic, seated on the shores of a new world, spread- 
ing from the Atlantic to the Pacific sea; built up in 
the affections of (till lately) thirty millions of people ; 
the pride and hope of its loyal subjects; the resort and 
refuge of multitudes from the old world ; with unexam- 
pled prosperity in itself, and dwelling in peace and honor 
witt all nations. And now, for no justifying cause, for 
an interest in slavery, for the gratification of passions that 
have sprung from that bitter root, a violent hand is raised 
to strike at this great image of the public authority, to 



21 



break it in pieces, and to scatter it in the dust. And the 
question is — Shall we permit it ? It is truly said that 
" Democracy is on its trial " in this crisis. Has it nur- 
tured in us a faint-heartedness, a recklessness, a love of 
ease or of property, that is willing to let this mighty 
fabric go to wreck and ruin ? Has it emasculated the 
noble Saxon race, and made us mere worldlings and 
cowards ? For one, I answer, No. Shall the aristocracies 
of the old world pass by, wagging their heads in scorn 
and saying, "Aha! ye could boast of your great Republic, 
but ye cannot fight for it ? " Shall all noble lovers of 
liberty in the world hang theii* heads in shame for us and 
say, " Alas ! for our hopes and the hopes of mankind ! '' 
And again I answer, No. 

And I say no, not in pride or passion, not in any hatred 
of the South, but under the most solemn sense of duty. 
To us this is a holy war. Religion — in the highest and 
widest view of it — commands us to do what we are doing. 
We have a trust committed to us, as we believe, by the 
Infinite Authority, and it is in fealty to God, and fidelity 
to man, that we feel bound to keep it. We cannot yield 
up lawful sovereignty, the national domain and honor, and 
the peace and welfare of unborn generations, to the reck- 
less assault that is made upon them. We believe that we 
should displease the just God, if we did so. We believe 
that ours is a righteous cause, and, I repeat, a holy war. 
And if the Southern people say. We, too, have a conscience; 



22 



be it so. All men, I suppose, have a conscience of some 
kind. The question is — Whose is the right conscience? 
The rebel conscience, or the loyal conscience ? They may 
say, Why cannot you yield to us ? We say, Why can- 
not you yield to us ? The question is. Who ought to 
yield ? Upon this question we have no doubt. If upon 
this question there must be an awful and bloody conflict, 
— if conscience on either side can find no other solution, 
God pity us ! and God defend the right ! 



54 W 


















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